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Do Not Feed

by Matthew Zangen

Hip bones smile
when starved right.

One should wait
to feed skin bare,

fuck to faint
all sweat all spare.

Promptly wash.
White light separate.

Butter stretch marks
with tobacco taxes,

stuff glutton bills,
stimulate cabbage unions,

beg broth bloats
and sunlight coats.

Sleep slowly.
Wake ever graciously.

Despite your thoughts,
always answer them politely,

Distrust potato motives--
and your eyes,

feed those closed.
Never touch the walls

and they will retreat.


Posted on 03/20/2009
Copyright © 2020 Matthew Zangen

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Alison McKenzie on 03/20/09 at 05:16 PM

There's an edge to this that gives it just the right touch of mystery. Nice alliteration and sonic quality throughout.

Posted by Glenn Currier on 07/13/09 at 02:21 PM

My favorite line: "Distrust potato motives." There is mystery here as well as a touch of fear. You pepper us and make us wonder.

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